Gemotions

The silence of her house was broken only by the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. It was a rhythmic reminder of the passage of time, a time that seemed to be moving at a torturously slow pace.

A delivery person arrived with a delicate posy of forget-me-nots. She stared at them, the small blue blossoms seeming to pierce her already fragile composure. No note accompanied them.

She placed the flowers on the mantelpiece, their delicate beauty doing nothing to soothe the tightness in her chest. She wondered if the person who sent them had any idea of the turmoil she was in.